ระบบห้ามฆ่าตัวตายบังคับให้เป็นอาจารย์ของตัวร้าย

At the far end of the hospital corridor, the doctor who had declared that I was infertile not long ago said with a conflicted look on his face, “Poor thing. She still thinks she’s pregnant. I’ve prescribed her something. The nausea is only a side effect of it.”

Johnson raised one of his eyebrows. “Then give her something with the least side effects. I don’t want anything harmful to happen to her health. Ella might still need her someday.”

“Aren’t you worried that she’ll hate you if she learns the truth someday? She has always wanted to have a child with you, yet she doesn’t even know that she’ll never be able to become a mother in this life.”

The doctor’s voice took on a note of sympathy.

“If she hates me, there’s nothing I can do about it. I simply can’t bear to see Ella suffer.”

Johnson’s tone grew impatient. “As for her, she has already gotten the title of Mrs. Stewart. Isn’t that enough?”

…

I froze at the corner of the hallway. My body trembled uncontrollably.

“Already earned the title as Mrs. Stewart, huh? So that’s what he thinks about me.”

Everything I had earned had not been given out of love at all. It had been paid for with one of my kidneys.

All the strength drained from my body at once, and I collapsed to the floor.

I fell into a miserable heap. Pain spread through my body. I did not even have the strength to get back up.

When Johnson saw me, he quickly strode over and helped me to my feet. He rested his profound gaze on me and asked, “How did you fall? When did you get here?”

I clenched my fists tightly inside my sleeves. I knew that tearing things up at that moment would not do me any good. I obediently leaned into his arms like I always did. “I just got here. My heels were too high. I twisted my ankle.”

The tension in his face finally eased. He scooped me up and headed out. He said in a low voice, “You’re not allowed to wear heels this high anymore.”

I looked at the face I had once been so captivated by, yet an endless chill spread through my heart.

When had he asked the doctor to take away one of my kidneys?

Did they do it when I had my appendectomy two years ago?

At that time, I had only felt slightly unwell. Yet, the doctor diagnosed it as appendicitis and said that I needed immediate surgery.

Johnson had been so nervous that he admitted me to the VIP wing and provided a top-tier medical team to perform my surgery.

At that time, I had thought he loved me so deeply that he could not bear the slightest risk to my well-being.

Looking back, I realized I had only been a tender lamb he kept under careful watch. All the care he showed me had simply been to prepare me for the day he would take what he needed and offer it to Ella.

During dinner, Johnson insisted that I finish a small bowl of pasta.

He looked at me gently while holding the fork to feed me. “If you don’t eat well, how would your body ever get better?”

I thought to myself. “If I don’t get better, I won’t be able to provide healthy organs to Ella. That’s the real concern, right?”

While looking at his hypocritical, gentle face, another wave of nausea rose in my chest.

I charged into the bathroom and locked the door. I ignored his concerns and vomited everything I had just eaten.

Just then, the phone inside my pocket vibrated.

“Have you really decided to leave?”

I held my phone. I inevitably recalled Johnson’s cold tone.

“Yes. The sooner, the better.”

It did not take long before Johnson had his servant bring him the key and unlock the door. He frowned as he stared at me. “Did you throw up again? Stop taking the previous medicine. Switch to the new one.”